


as beautiful as endless

by mapyourstars



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Freckle Worship, Getting Together, M/M, Rimming, do i tell u all the sex things that happen or do i let u find out…, i think i’ll let u find out, okay fine i will tell you there's, porn with a little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23743852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mapyourstars/pseuds/mapyourstars
Summary: James comes home from training with, like, 10 times as many freckles.
Relationships: Teddy Lupin/James Sirius Potter
Comments: 31
Kudos: 187
Collections: JeddyFest_2020





	as beautiful as endless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoldenTruth813](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/gifts), [valryon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/valryon/gifts).



> i can’t begin to explain how emotional i am right now. this is my first ever completed fic!!! (not counting the drabble i wrote, though i am still soft about writing that, too, since it was my first drabble attempt!) this is also my first fest entry! 
> 
> jeddyfest mods, thank you so much for putting this on. i love jeddy so much, and it’s an honor to be involved in such an awesome fest.
> 
> janel, hehehe… ma’am, your prompts are always the best. (yes, i ALWAYS read the prompt list and chicken out!!) and i’m ngl, freckle worship? MY WEAKNESS. it is my absolute pleasure to present you with this fic. i hope you enjoy it! please take it as a token of my gratitude for all of the amazing jeddy (and drarry!) work you’ve put out for us avid readers.
> 
> sarah, you are so kind and generous with both your time and your energy! thank you for being a fantastic beta and helping me get this ready. i appreciate you so much!
> 
> and finally, reese. my jeddy partner-in-crime! i truly could not have done this without you. we’ve been writing jeddy together for years, encouraging each other to branch out into fanfic for years, and look at us! we’ve finally done it, binch!!! thank you for your endless headcanons, screaming, nsfw inspiration, and friendship. i love you a ton. (also, i hope you love this! I CAN'T BELIEVE I'VE WAITED WEEKS TO SHARE IT WITH YOU!!! LET'S SCREAM!)
> 
> long ass notes are over! enjoy! please, please let me know what you think!
> 
> **prompt:** James has never minded being the only one in his family covered in freckles. Until a summer away at Quidditch training camp (and weeks spent in the sun) leaves him with more than ever. For some reason he's nervous Teddy won't love them when he gets back. (cr: goldentruth813)
> 
> **title:** from "venus" by sleeping at last

“Teddy, your face!” 

James hears Lily’s whisper and the giggles that follow, turns, and finds freckles fading from Teddy’s cheeks as all color drains from his face and floods, light pink, into his hair. Fair-skinned even beneath the tan and the (apparently noticeable) collection of new freckles, James feels a flush climb up his own neck as he realizes he’s been spotted.

James has always been fair and freckled, head to toe, and it has never bothered him in the slightest. His mum and her entire side of the family are fair and freckled. He has always  _ liked  _ his freckles. It never, even as a child, occurred to him to be embarrassed by them or self-conscious of them. If anything, the small diamond cluster of freckles on his middle toe on his left foot has been a point of pride, something to show off at parties after a few shots of firewhisky. 

However, after three straight months of training in Caerphilly, dawn til dusk, he has probably developed a dozen more for each freckle he had at the start of spring. He has also developed the sort of muscles he always envied in professional chasers, but he doesn’t see Teddy hurrying to hide the sudden mimic of muscles, so it’s clear what exactly Teddy has and hasn’t noticed.

For the first time in twenty years, James is embarrassed by the marks over his skin. 

Teddy clears his throat. “Welcome home, Jamie.”

“Yeah, welcome home,  _ Jamie _ ,” Lily copies, eyes alight. 

James relaxes a fraction. “Stuff it, Lils,” he retorts as he moves forward and pulls her head under his arm. “It’s good to be back.”

“You get any good while you were away?” 

He feigns offence and scrubs at her scalp with his knuckles. “Wench! You wanna have a one-on-one, you just let me know. Besides, last I heard, Ravenclaw didn’t win the cup this year.  _ Again _ .” 

Lily fights him off, amused and annoyed, but James’s tactic works and she switches topics away from dragging his quidditch skills. “That’s because Flint is the worst captain in the history of the universe. Why McGonagall picked him over me, I’ll never know.” She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “Did I tell you he benched me during the match against Hufflepuff? He said, and I quote, ‘Gotta let the reserves have a chance, Pots. Don’t take it personally.’ Don’t take it personally? It was my final year, the second to last match, and scouts were around—but I shouldn’t take it personally that he sat me out to let a fourth year play?”

James holds his hands up as if warding her off. “Flint’s daft, but we knew that.” He smiles, ear to ear and dimpling on either side. “Besides, I heard all about your last match and how you crushed Slytherin, so at least we don’t have to listen to any of Al’s shite.”

Lily barks a laugh. “Right! Now I just have to listen to  _ your  _ shite, but I suppose one pile is better than two.”

James lunges for her again, but she dances out of the way with a delighted cackle. “What did I do to deserve you?” he wonders, voice raising the farther Lily gets. She reaches the back door, flips him off, and ducks into the house while he laughs. 

“Never a dull moment,” Teddy comments idly once they’re alone with the sound of humming bumblebees and the blanket of the sun’s warmth. 

Finally, James faces him head-on. Without Lily there as a buffer, he has no excuse for pretending Teddy isn’t standing right there, tall and broad and sturdy. James knows he can’t look too closely, but he can’t help the quick once-over. Teddy’s in his signature beat up leather jacket and scuffed dragonhide boots; his cerulean hair’s wild on top and shaved close on the sides; and—Merlin’s tits—he hasn’t shaved in a couple of days. 

“Right, well… Someone’s got to keep the kids in line,” James eventually replies. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his cutoffs and wishes he were wearing something, anything to cover his arms. The vest had seemed like a good call at the portkey office—he could arrive home and show off his biceps and his tan, he’d thought—but now he just feels exposed.

“Right,” Teddy sums up faintly, nice and succinctly. 

And that’s it. That’s the exact nature of their relationship nowadays. One heated snog after a quidditch banquet, followed by three months without contact, and now they can’t even talk like the mates they’ve been for years. 

James scratches at the back of his neck then combs his fingers into his hair, tugs at the dark auburn curls on top of his head. “Right,” he says again, “I’m heading in to unpack.”

He makes it maybe three feet before Teddy’s hand, rough with callouses, closes around his elbow. 

“Wait—”

James turns back to Teddy, but Teddy’s not looking at him. He’s looking anywhere but at James, eyes darting around as if he’s looking for the words he needs, but when they stick—somewhere high above James's head and slightly to the right—he cringes a little and seems to change his mind. “I’ll help you,” he says, his eyes wide and Lupin green finally landing on James’s hazel ones.

James doesn’t know what the hell’s going through Teddy’s head, but he has a feeling it’s something more than idle chit chat and catching up on their past few months. He shrugs, pivots, and looks up to see what Teddy’d been looking at—Al’s smirking down at them and when he sees James looking, he waves his fingers in a cheeky wave. James clicks his tongue. Nosy bastard.

The house is a lovely, two-level cottage in the countryside outside of Lynmouth. It isn’t far from the Burrow, though it is a fair hike from Andromeda’s place in Bath—not that the journey can even be considered difficult with apparition and Floo powder readily available. The cottage sits on a slight slope, its exterior painted a pale honey with a warm brown thatched roof and white lattice windows. The flowerbeds are wild and bordering on overgrown, but James knows how hard his dad works to keep them that way: growing freely, without being so close to each other that their roots tangle and strangle one another. 

The interior is warm, a mixture of cosy contemporary furniture and gran Weasley’s knitting, shelves overflowing with books and knick knacks and frames with magical and muggle photos. Each room is painted a different color, variations of the same pale, warm, welcoming shade. James’s bedroom is yellow.

He’ll move out one day, but there really hasn’t been much need, what with him away during the summers for training, then busy with practices and matches during the active season. When he does move, he’ll probably have to ask his parents to come paint the place because he’s so stuck on the yellow of his walls. 

He tugs his miniaturized rucksack from his pocket and drops it on his bed. Before he can pull his wand from his back pocket, Teddy steps up next to him and lifts a few fingers almost carelessly, and the rucksack resizes. And James’s flush creeps up his neck again. 

Once again, he’s stopped by a rough hand on his bare elbow as he goes to move. This time, he’s reaching to open his bag because, really, he should do the worst chore ever (read: unpack) and having Teddy in his bedroom is a fabulous reason to distract himself with literally anything possible. 

“Can we talk?”   


Fuck. James swallows hard and nods, watching Teddy from the corner of his eye as he half-faces him, his body half-turned away like a man about to run. Teddy undoubtedly sees this and recognizes it for what it is: James is a blunt, brave, brash man, but dealing with anything remotely emotional or vulnerable while James is sober is nearly impossible; a few pints and he’ll divulge his deepest secrets. Teddy knows this, so he keeps his hand where it is. 

“Yeah, ‘course Teds.”

Teddy steps in a little closer. “I missed you,” he says like it’s easy. His thumb moves against James’s skin while James stands stock still, still debating between fight or flight. Teddy’s thumb stroking back and forth keeps him rooted to the spot. “You didn’t write.”

This time, the heat pricks across James’s cheeks and his eyes drop to the bump beneath Teddy’s t-shirt—right at eye level—where James knows the Lupins’ wedding rings rest against Teddy’s skin. “Didn’t know what to say,” he manages, and it’s a half-truth. He had plenty he could have said, of course. Things very like  _ I miss you  _ and  _ I want to do that again  _ and  _ Let’s do that, you know, on a permanent basis _ . But mates didn’t say that to mates, even when they’d shared some heated, handsy kissing while drunk in one mate’s grandparents’ back garden. 

“And now?” Teddy presses. “Still don’t know what to say? That’s not like you, Jamie.”

Curse whichever deity decided James would fall in love with his best friend. Seriously. No one knows him better than Teddy does, and it’s going to be his undoing. 

James’s eyes drag up to Teddy’s face to find kind eyes and a small, amused smile waiting for him. “Tell me, Jamie,” Teddy whispers as he leans in a bit, tugging James closer by the elbow until James’s hand finally lifts to cup his tricep.

Mouth dry, James opens his mouth to say— something. He doesn’t know what. Teddy is right, it’s very unlike him to not run his mouth at any given opportunity, but he’s stuck now, words with meanings too deep to be spoken aloud are lodged in his chest, and he knows his eyes are giving everything away. He’s never been able to hide himself from Teddy.

And Teddy’s so close now, his face just a few inches from James’s, and his eyelids have lowered a little, shadowing the leafy green behind them. “C’mon, Jamie…”

“I—” He  _ what?  _ “—you…” The middle word is missing, but it seems to be enough for Teddy to understand, because his small smile spreads into something dazzling and rare and so precious before he finishes pulling James against him and lowers his head to brush their lips together. 

“I—you, too,” he whispers, and James gets it too. 

Maybe he can’t formulate emotions into words, but he can sure as hell act on them. Teddy leans in for another kiss, and James meets him halfway and with a bit more force than necessary, arms latching around Teddy’s neck, sending them stumbling a few paces. James doesn’t pay any attention, too focused on the arm around his waist and the body plastered against his. 

Teddy catches them, braces himself, then seems to get his leverage back. In seconds, he has James backing up until he’s pinned between Teddy and his desk, then he’s lifted— _ lifted _ , for fuck’s sake, as if he weighs nothing, as if he hasn’t spent like seventy hours a week working out for three months—onto said desk. 

James spreads his legs and pulls Teddy in this time, hands in mulberry hair and mouth searching. Teddy’s grip on his waist tightens to keep James in place, and then he’s  _ taking _ James’s mouth—biting at his lips, sucking at his tongue, angling their heads until they’re practically providing each other’s air—and all James can do is hang on and groan and tighten his thighs around Teddy’s hips. 

It’s so good.

It’s not enough.

Teddy gets a hand up under the hem of James’s vest, and James has to pull away from Teddy’s mouth to bite his own lips to keep from whimpering at the feel of Teddy’s fingers on his skin. 

“James,” Teddy’s voice is low and quiet, “James, I want you.” 

James’s breath catches at the honesty of it, right there in the open. “Yeah,” he sighs, agrees, drops his hands from Teddy’s hair to the button of his jeans—

“No, not—” Teddy reaches to stop him and ends up holding his hand, but James’s heart stops. Has he misread the situation? “Not like this, okay? I wanna take my time.” 

Take his time? It dawns on James slowly, and he’ll blame the haze of  _ want _ for how long it takes for him to catch on, but he does eventually. “Oh,” he draws out. He’s a little disappointed but mostly pleased, but he doesn’t believe in pressuring for sex, of course, so he keeps his tone light and leans back, a palm braced on the desktop, to breathe. “No problem. Taking things slow is good, healthy.” He can’t look at Teddy while trying to calm himself down. Now that they’ve  _ started _ , he feels greedy and needy, and Teddy’s still standing between his legs and touching him and looking at him, and it’s taking every ounce of control James has to not put on a show when he’s being looked at this way. 

He doesn’t expect the laugh, though, so he looks up as Teddy shakes with mirth and grips James’s thighs. “What?” James wonders as he smiles, charmed by Teddy yet again. 

Teddy settles, but his eyes keep dancing and his grin is wide. He leans in, his expression turning sharp and predatory, and his hands climb higher until his thumbs are brushing at the creases of James’s groin. “I don’t want to take things slow, sweetheart,” he corrects, voice pitched down low again as if he knows the exact register to make James’s length twitch in his shorts. “I want to _ take my time _ . Come to mine?”

Mouth dry, James is speechless again. He attempts answering, but all that comes out is a small, pathetic sound. So he nods, and nods, and keeps nodding until Teddy laughs again and scoops him closer, then up onto his waist. James clings, arms and legs clutching, and there’s hardly time to voice the litany of  _ yess _ es running through his mind before Teddy twists and they disappear from James’s room. 

With a _pop!_ , they appear in Teddy’s living room, and he carries James to his bedroom, kicks the door shut, and unceremoniously drops James onto his bed. “Right where I want you,” he murmurs, and James licks his lips. He has never, ever seen Teddy look like this anywhere other than his most private fantasies. Teddy looks ready to eat James whole, and James is all too keen for him to get on with it. 

“Well? You just gonna stare at me?”

This inspires another of Teddy’s dazzling grins, the kind that suggests he can’t believe his luck and that he’s very lucky indeed. “Maybe,” he teases, but he’s already kneeling onto the bed and climbing over James. “Might need to get some of this kit off first.” 

His heart is racing and soaring, and his blood is pumping, but James still eggs him on like he hasn’t been desperate for this for years. “Go on, then.” 

“I knew you’d be a brat,” Teddy laughs and makes short work of ridding James of his shirt. He stops moving again, and his expression becomes more serious. 

Straddling James’s hips and leaning over him, one arm holding him up, Teddy uses his finger tips to trace James’s collarbones. “All these freckles,” he murmurs as his fingers drift lower, then higher, then around the curves of James’s shoulders. “I nearly jumped you right there in the back garden when you came out looking like this.” He licks his lips, brings his eyes to James’s. “There’s so many,” he adds, tone almost a pained whine, but James can see the adoration in them, the desire. 

“I caught the sun on like, day one,” James says. “When the burn healed, I’d earned dozens more of the blasted things.” His lips curl and he lets his hands run up Teddy’s thighs this time. While they’re admitting things that don’t make one extremely vulnerable, he can admit, “I worried you wouldn’t like them.”

Teddy’s eyes flash—in challenge, in worry, in ready defense like he’s ready to fight whoever put self-consciousness over freckles into James’s mind. “I’ve always loved them,” he states clearly, brushing his nose over James’s as his fingers still graze over Teddy’s upper chest, “and now there are more to love.”

James might pass out if Teddy keeps using the word  _ love  _ in this context. As it is, he flushes from neck to hair now.

Satisfied his meaning, the intensity of his appreciation, has been transmitted to James, Teddy smiles wide and kisses him again. It’s slower this time. Teddy kisses each of James’s lips, flicks his tongue just off center of his upper lip— “This is one of my favorites. You’ve had it a few years now.” He moves across James’s face, placing slow, gentle kisses over his cheeks and the tip of his nose, then against his eyelid. “This one you’ve had since you were a kid. I once asked Andromeda if I could have one just like it.”

James, breathless and near to bursting with emotion he didn’t know he could possess, laughs. “You did not.”

Teddy beams down at him. “I did. She said I could have whatever I like since, you know,” he trails off then winks at James, and in the span of that wink, a tiny freckle appears on his eyelid. “It’s not the same when it’s not on you, though.” He blinks, and it’s gone, and he’s back to kissing James’s face. 

As Teddy drifts lower, James keeps a firm grip on his thighs, then his upper arms when he can no longer reach them. Teddy mouths at his pulse, and James hums and tilts his head out of the way. Teddy bites down, and James jolts and groans before he can swallow it down. 

“I want to hear you, Jamie,” Teddy states against the teeth marks before soothing them with his tongue and sliding down. He seems to hesitate and James is nearly lifting his head before Teddy makes up his mind and sucks a plum-colored mark onto James’s collarbone.

James doesn’t hold back this time, and he couldn’t if he tried. He’s reading into it, he knows, but intentional marks are important, they mean something, and he’s now wearing that meaning because Teddy put it there.

Teddy drifts lower and so do his fingers, down to James’s shorts where they make quick, easy work of the button and the zip just as his clever mouth finds a nipple. “You even have freckles here,” he observes with reverence before licking each one and sucking a nipple into his mouth, dragging his tongue roughly over it to the sound of James keening. “So sensitive.”

James doesn’t know how much of this he can take. He’s hard and aching, and he doesn’t know how to feel like this, like Teddy is desperate for him, admiring and appreciating,  _ savoring  _ him. “Teddy,” he breathes.

Teddy stills. “Again,” he commands, and James feels the demand down to the tips of his toes.

_ “Teddy.”  _

Teddy drops his face to the dip between James’s pecs and groans. “You’re going to be the end of me.”

James recovers a little now that his nipples are being left alone, and he cards his fingers into Teddy’s hair, tugs a little. “You’re going to kill me if you don’t get on with it,” he quips, but his tone is needier than he means to let on. 

With a short laugh, Teddy bites at the muscle nearest his mouth and wanders lower with all the speed of maple syrup sliding down a tree in Canada during the dead of winter. James tugs on his hair again, and he’s rewarded with a nip to his lower abdomen that has him hissing. “Patience, sweetheart,” is pressed into the thin skin over his hip bone and James bites his lip. 

Teddy pulls back to drag James’s shoes and socks off, then his shorts, then his briefs, the rapidity with which he does so giving away his own excitement. James sits up, fully naked, eager to close the distance between them, but Teddy presses him back down into the bed. “I want—”

“Not yet,” Teddy interrupts with a quick kiss.

“But your shirt…” 

Teddy  _ tsk _ s, “Needy thing,” even as he grins and leans back on his knees to pull off his jacket and his shirt. 

James drinks in the sight of him. Where James is average height and lean muscle, Teddy is tall and broad and a little rough from playing with dragons in Romania for eight years— James’s mind skirts away from that detail, unwilling to think about the fact that Teddy will likely be going back to his dragons in a few days. His mind lingers, however, on the collection of scars he can see; one is clearly an old burn, yet another looks like a swipe from a claw. He wants to taste them, know them. 

“Soon,” Teddy whispers because of course he knows what James is thinking. James is sure he’s drooling all over himself just  _ looking  _ at Teddy half naked. 

Teddy scoots back and off of James’s lap, insinuates himself between James’s thighs, and stoops to resume the path of his kisses. Tucking his arms under his head, James watches with parted lips and glazed eyes as Teddy slides his hands up and down James’s thighs, kisses the V between his hips, squeezes the flexing muscles beneath his palms. His mouth is  _ so close… _

“Jamie.” James looks from Teddy’s mouth to his eyes. “Can I suck you?”

Once again, James resorts to nodding frantically instead of verbally answering because he doesn’t trust himself to speak. Teddy smirks, eyes dark, and finally moves a hand to James’s cock. He tilts his head back and groans, hips immediately rolling in silent request for more. But Teddy barely grips him. He keeps his touch light as strokes from root to tip. “God, James,” he rasps and his fist tightens, making James  _ unh _ in relief and need, “you have a freckle here.” And he drops a gentle kiss just next to James’s slit. “This is officially my favorite,” he adds, quickly followed by a kitten lick to that exact spot. 

Jame whimpers for real this time and shoots a hand out to tangle in Teddy’s hair, still a rich red wine. “If you don’t put your mouth on me, Teds,” he warns but doesn’t finish the thought. He can’t. What’s he going to do if Teddy continues to torture him? He’s going to take it and love every fucking second. 

Teddy laughs breathily against him but, blessedly, licks his lips and slides them over the head of James’s cock. James feels Teddy’s quiet groan an instant before Teddy slips down, all the way to the base, encasing James in wet heat, his fingers dropping to lightly play with James’s balls. James can’t look away, his mouth open and breaths short, his loose grip on Teddy’s hair more of a grounding point than an insistent gesture. 

By the time Teddy pulls off of James’s cock, James is panting and his skin is dappled with sweat, his thighs are trembling, and he’s one cool breath away from coming all over himself. 

“Turn over.” James squeezes his eyes shut and holds his breath as his length throbs against his stomach. He never wants to hear anything but Teddy’s voice like this, raspy and confident, for the rest of his life. Teddy flicks his thigh. “Now,” he adds with amusement. 

James shuffles to roll over without kneeing Teddy in the face, and before he’s properly stretched out, Teddy has him by the arse and is pushing him into the bed and spreading his cheeks. “As I thought,” he says slowly but nowhere near calmly, his voice rough and tightly controlled, “another freckle.” 

He shoves his face in James’s arse, no longer teasing them both with little kisses and licks to various freckles, but full on devouring the gift before him, and James  _ screams _ with desperation. He grinds back against Teddy’s face, then down into the bedspread, then back up against his face until Teddy holds him down and still. Teddy groans as he licks and sucks and nips, taint to tailbone, then focusing on James’s rim like he’s lapping up exquisite delights right from James’s hole. He tongues him open as James moans and curses.

“Teddy,” James gasps,  _ “please.” _

Teddy’s fingers bite into the meat of James’s arse. “Please  _ what _ , Jamie?”

“Fuck me. Fingers, dick— anything. Please,” James whines, humping the bed and nearly in tears because he’s so close. He could come, if only Teddy would—

Teddy frees a hand from its grip on James and holds it out, and a bottle of lube flies from a drawer a moment later, slapping into his hand. Fucking wandless, nonverbal magic  _ again _ . James growls, “Get in me,” and earns a swift smack to his arse for his attitude. His yelp quickly devolves into a high keen. 

“What did I say about patience, sweetheart?” Teddy’s said a lot of things, James notes stupidly, but it doesn’t matter much because a finger slides into him, easy as anything, and all James cares about is getting  _ more.  _

He rides Teddy’s finger like he rode Teddy’s face, and Teddy doesn’t need prompting before twisting a second one in. They brush a spot that has James jerking and ripping at the bedding, and he’s just able to get out, “Don’t you dare—” before Teddy’s easing a third finger in and rubbing directly over his prostate, making him howl.

Teddy brings James to the edge, holds him over the cliff, then yanks his fingers out and pulls James back, leaving him breathing hard and shaking, unable to control the little noises he makes with each exhale. “Alright, Jamie?”

James grunts. He takes a second, maybe two, then pushes up onto all fours, arches his back, and looks over his shoulder. “C’mon, Teddy. Make me come on your cock.”

Teddy bites off a curse and scrambles to rid himself of the last of his clothes, to coat himself in lube. When he eases in, James inhales through his teeth and pushes back against the burn of the stretch. He’s loose, he’s desperate, and he’s urging Teddy on within minutes. 

It’s their first time, but they know each other and know it won’t be the last. Teddy had his chance to take his time, and now it’s Jame’s chance to get the fast, desperate fuck he needs. He drops to his elbows and plants his palms against the headboard, backs his arse up and demands, “Faster,” when he needs it harder. Teddy provides, picks up his pace until he’s hardly pulling out before ramming back in and down, pummeling James’s prostate. 

“Jamie,” Teddy can hardly speak for how lost he is. “Sweetheart, come for me.” He curls over James and threads his fingers through James’s against the headboard, keeps his other hand tight around James’s hip. “I want to feel you.”

He hadn’t been waiting for permission, really, but getting told what to do does it. It’s the final straw. Teddy fucks into him, his thrusts uneven but targeted, and James feels the hot curl of need within him lash out, from his core to his fingers and toes, and he comes with a sob over all over the bed and his stomach. Teddy follows him over, hips stuttering as James’s arse squeezes around him and brings stars to his eyes and a groan from his throat. 

They breathe like that for a moment—or James assumes they breathe, he can’t actually be sure—and then collapse onto the bed, Teddy sprawled on top of him and still buried in him as he begins to soften. When he does, he carefully pulls out and rolls over, runs a hand and some of his casual wandless magic over James to clean him up, and then does himself. 

Afterward, Teddy stays like that, propped up on his side with an uncertain expression. Even dazed and worn out, James can see the light of hope in his eyes, and it makes him smile. “I hope you don’t mind,” he says faux-casually as he scoots over and pressed Teddy back, “but I’m a cuddler.” He pretends not to see Teddy’s relief and instead plasters himself to Teddy’s side, a leg draped over Teddy’s, an arm over his waist, and his face in Teddy’s neck. 

“Should we,” Teddy starts and stops, hesitating though his arm curls around James’s shoulders and his other hand traces freckles on James’s forearm. “Should we talk? D’you think?”

“Where’d all that confidence go?” James teases with affection, but he adjusts until he can prop his chin on the back of his hand, his palm on Teddy’s chest. “I missed you,” he finally, quietly admits, “and I want you.” The brightness of Teddy’s smile is almost enough to make James squint, but he wouldn’t avoid it for the world or the sake of his eyesight. “I think you know what I mean, but I want you tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. You’re my best mate. This isn’t… I know what people think, but—”

“I don’t think that, Jamie.”

It’s James’s turn to smile with his entire face: freckles, dimples, tan lines like crows feet, and all. “You get me.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I get you.” Teddy tips up to kiss the freckle on James’s lip. 

**Author's Note:**

> in case anyone’s curious, [this](https://image.shutterstock.com/image-photo/thatched-roof-cottage-selworthy-village-260nw-118859314.jpg) is what i imagine for the potters’ cottage, [cerulean](https://www.color-meanings.com/wp-content/uploads/shades-blue-color-names.png) is the color of teddy’s hair and [mulberry](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/69/db/78/69db786e73af939cbc19e34319d0c155.jpg) is the color of teddy’s horny!hair (don’t @ me) 
> 
> thank you for reading!
> 
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